


darkness intertwined

by majesticmcold



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, tags will be added later as i add chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-01-24 12:12:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1604723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticmcold/pseuds/majesticmcold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Durin Mining Company discovers what seems to be a magical stone, no one knows what it truly is - except for one person who will do almost anything to get it.</p><p>A Middle-Earth fic set in the Star Wars universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Arkenstone

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a Hobbit Star Wars!AU fic, so you'll find it's very heavily focused on Hobbit characters. However, there is no set timeline for this - meaning that you'll find characters from both The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings interacting.

_Greed is a powerful ally. But it is more likely to stab you in the back._

The world of Erebor was a thriving mining planet. Its surface was primarily made up of mountains, green fields and picturesque lakes, and it was often said you could live in warm comfort all year round. If one were to take a tour of the planet, they would be surprised at how little activity took place – but the surface of Erebor was only half of the true story.

While the immigrated species on Erebor mainly lived overground – predominately humans with the odd Toydarian merchant attempting to take advantage of Erebor’s wealth – the native dwarves much preferred to live underground. They found comfort in the hard stone, the warm fires of the forges and the sound of metalwork was like a glorious symphony that never ended. While most of the mining industry preferred to use droids and more efficient methods for their work, it was the opinion of the Durin Mining Company that such crude methods produced subpar results.

Perhaps it was true, or perhaps the materials found on Erebor were simply of a better quality. Whatever the explanation was, it was widely accepted among the rest of the Empire that the Durin Mining Company were one of the best – if not  _the_  best. There was a reason that Erebor shared the same wealth status of those planets in the Core Worlds, despite being situated in the Mid Rim. 

It wasn’t until the Arkenstone was discovered that this began to change.

*             *             * 

‘King Thrain!’

King Thrain lifted his head, the heavy crown on his dark, greying hair glittering green in the light. The current ruler of Erebor – and, it is said, descendent of Durin himself, the legendary dwarf who conquered the fire-worm that had resided in the very place they all sat now: the Lonely Mountain. The heavy-set dwarf was dressed in blue robes that, to the unpractised eye, looked extravagant, but were actually rather casual. As the material shifted, it seemed to shimmer.

‘Father.’ Thorin was also dressed in the family blue, but his clothes were worn and frayed from years of labour. The President of the Durin Mining Company was also the next in line for the throne of Erebor, and once Thorin took up his father’s seat, he would no longer be president. Thorin was not sure that was something he wanted; he was more than content to spend his days with the feel of rock and gold under his fingers.

Thrain smiled at his eldest son standing before him, but in his eyes remained the hard glint of steel; the dwarves were a proud and durable race. ‘What is it, Thorin?’

‘Father, one of the dwarves ... he-he found something in the tunnels.’

‘Oh?’

‘No one has ever seen it’s like before … well …’ Thorin moved his hands out from behind his back.

The first thing Thrain saw was the bright light streaming out from underneath Thorin’s thick fingers. It was a light so pure, so enticing, so unnatural, that all else faded away before it. It spoke of promises, whispered sweet nothings, and beckoned him closer.

Indeed, it was only when one of the two guards that stood next to his throne tapped Thrain’s chest with his vibroblade that Thrain realised he had gotten out of his seat.

'Your Highness?’

All three dwarves were looking at Thrain with concern. Thrain glanced at them, but his eyes soon returned to the stone.

‘It is cursed,’ he whispered. 

‘Possibly,’ Thorin admitted. ‘Almost everyone who has laid eyes upon it has had the same reaction has you. But none of our analysis droids have managed to pinpoint what sort of material it’s made out of. It is no rock I have ever felt before, that is for sure. If it is such a curse that can confound droids, it must be dangerous indeed.’

Thrain tore his eyes away. Thorin put his hands behind his back again, and Thrain felt a tug on his heart, the pull of desire in the pit of his stomach. ‘What – what do we do with it?’

Thorin smiled, raising his shoulders. ‘That is why I came to you, Father.’

Thrain turned, facing the throne. A voice inside him, speaking with the same allure that the light created, telling him to display it where all can see it; a trophy, a sign of divine right. But his common sense urged him to hide it away, for reasons he could not quite explain.

‘It is dangerous,’ Thrain declared. ‘It must be hidden. And no one must speak of it.’

When he received no answer, Thrain faced his son. Thorin was standing with his mouth partly open, as though he were trying to say something but could not find the words.

‘Is that understood?’ Thrain rumbled.

‘Y-Yes, Father.’

*             *             * 

But Thrain knew, as Thorin did, that keeping such a magnificent and seductive jewel a secret would prove fruitless. For they were in the Lonely Mountain, the main settlement in Erebor, which served as both living quarters, workplace, and royal court. It was the largest mountain on the planet, and on the inside it was even larger, as the dwarves had mined deep below the surface.

Whispered questions of what the jewel was travelled quickly in the Mountain. Its location was known only to Thorin, who would die before he told anyone, but that did not stop some from searching for it. The Jewel Questers made it their work to find it, but once King Thrain found out, the resulting roar almost travelled down to the depths of the mines. No one else attempted to look for it, but the murmurs did not cease. 

And they made their way off-world. The murmurs took shape and twisted, growing, in each retelling, so that finally once it reached Coruscant in the galaxy core, many believed that the Durin Mining Company had found a life-altering stone that could cure disease, create money out of thin-air, and was it was believed that, with a mere touch, one would be able to feel the Force flowing around them, even if they were the least Force sensitive life-form in the entire galaxy.

The last one was only half-wrong. 

Slender fingers tapped the obsidian desk. Emperor Annatar sat in his high-backed seat in his Senate office, deep in thought. The news of the mysterious stone found in Erebor had reached even the senators; Annatar had heard two senators laughing about it in the hallways of the Senate Rotunda after the last Senate session.

A little more research into the matter had confirmed Annatar’s suspicions: the dwarves of Erebor had blindly stumbled upon the Arkenstone.

The Arkenstone was an ancient Jedi artefact. It vanished out of history thousands of years ago, and record of it only existed in the oldest of the oldest Jedi holocrons. It was legend that its power was immense – that it was the focal point of the Force. If one controlled the Arkenstone, one totally controlled the Force – and therefore all of reality.

Yet how did Annatar, a mere Emperor, discover its existence?

It helped, of course, that Annatar was not a mere Emperor.

_The dark side of the Force knows more. Can do more. Is more._

He was Sauron, the only Dark Lord of the Sith alive in the Empire after his master, Darth Morgoth, mysteriously disappeared during a journey in the Outer Rim. (Not that Sauron minded; he had been planning Morgoth’s downfall for months previous.)

Annatar fiddled with the ring on his finger. He had a meeting with the senators of the Alliance between Elves and Men – how he couldn’t wait until the Imperial Senate became obsolete – so there was little he could do at that moment.

But something had to be done – quickly.

It was time he called in the Mouth.

He had to find the Arkenstone before the Jedi did. And when he bent it to his will, he would finally be totally and completely unstoppable.


	2. The Dragon

_Beware of kind words from evil mouths._

Erebor was making a name for itself, it was true. With such wealth and resource-rich land, it was almost impossible for the world to stay off the map completely. Such a reputation made it a target for pirates, bounty hunters and the like, but the security force – it was too small to be called a formal army – was enough to defend against such small-scale attacks. The general population helped as well: almost all of them had a least some knowledge in warfare, and dwarves would hold onto their treasure with every inch of their being, should someone attempt to steal it unlawfully.

With each victory, the dwarves’ overconfidence grew. Erebor was impenetrable, they said. No one would dare enter the Lonely Mountain without their leave.

But when word of the magical stone spread, interest grew. In the coming weeks, Erebor found itself in the midst of a tourism boom, as life-forms from all around the galaxy flocked to the mining world to see if they could get a glimpse of the magical stone. The administration of Erebor had themselves a hard time sending everyone away, and they soon found they hated the term ‘magical stone’ and didn’t want anything to do with it.

There was one who had had his eye on Erebor for quite some time.

Smaug Corporation was regarded as the second-biggest mining company in the galaxy – a reputation that the owner did not appreciate. It had nothing to do with numbers, as Smaug Corp boasted the biggest security force for a corporation of their size - and not to mention they had the most workers, due to the dwarf-exclusivity of Durin Mining.

They were also renowned for being the stingiest. Smaug Corp was well practised in finding the necessary loopholes and jumping through them with practised ease; high profits, high trade rates, and no more money was spent than necessary. However, despite their hoarding tactics, they never quite managed to reach the standards of Durin Mining; something of a sore spot for the founder and owner.

Smaug was an entrepreneur with a fierce love of anything valuable. He appeared humanoid, with a reddish tint to his skin, but rumour had it that Smaug’s species was descended from dragons. No one knows where or when the rumours first started – Smaug himself, possibly – but it was true that Smaug’s ilk were strangely impervious to fire; their nails more resembled claws and their fingers were slightly webbed; and when under stress or anxiety, their skin was known to erupt in scales.

Smaug had long had Erebor in his sights. The competition was seemingly unbeatable, and the lure of the vast stores of riches that hid under the mountains was almost impossible to resist. There was, therefore, no other solution than to take Erebor for himself.

But how to stage a legal invasion? That was the issue. Smaug had not yet managed to find a way that would allow him complete access to and control over Erebor, while simultaneously keeping all of this clients and ensuring that he would not be the target of legal action. It would require a great deal of finesse that Smaug was not sure he possessed. If he could have his way, he would have preferred to storm the Lonely Mountain and get rid of them all with one swift stroke. Though he was a fine businessman, subtlety did not come easily to him.

He was dwelling upon this when he was contacted by the Mouth.

His personal flagship was seemingly modest. It was called _The Dragon_ , and while the cruiser looked nondescript on the outside, on the inside was the latest state-of-the-art technology, along with a fairly sized security force. Any pirates or bounty hunters looking for an easy mark often got a nasty surprise when they tried to board _The Dragon_.

That was where Smaug spent the majority of his time. Smaug Corp had a presence on numerous different worlds, but Smaug found it easier to remain distant from it all.

‘Sir?’

Smaug stopped spinning in his chair, and faced his assistant. ‘Yes?’

‘You have a call. Shall I patch it through?’

‘Yes, yes,’ Smaug replied impatiently, waving his hand. He was eager to get back to brooding upon Erebor, but all thoughts of the world vanished when the hologram projector on his desk flared into life.

The figure was coloured blue as were all holograms, and flickering with the static that indicated it was travelling through space interference. The shape itself was cloaked in dark clothes, with a strange headpiece that covered the top half of the figure’s face. Smaug found himself wishing that it covered the bottom half as well: the mouth was bigger than the usual size, the lips cracked and stained and yellowing teeth bared in a hideous grin.

‘Smaug.’

The voice had a disturbingly unnatural, grating quality to it that made Smaug glad he wasn’t in the room personally with it. ‘Yes?’

‘Greetings. My Master wishes you well.’

‘And to you. Who are you, and who is the Master you speak of?’

The lips pulled back even further over his teeth, and Smaug had to repress a shiver of distaste. ‘I am the Mouth of Sauron. I see nothing – only hear and speak on my Master’s behalf.’

‘Sauron.’ Smaug had not heard that name before. ‘And why has your Master seen fit to contact me?’

The head of the Mouth of Sauron tilted to the side. ‘He wishes to make a deal. He has heard of your greatness and of your cunning. He believes you would be able to help him.’

If there was one weakness that Smaug had apart from money, it was flattery. He sat up a little bit straighter. ‘Oh, yes?’

‘Indeed.’ The Mouth paused. ‘What do you know of the magical stone of Erebor?’

Smaug scowled. ‘Only that it is incredibly valuable. It is wasted on the dwarves.’

‘My Master wishes to possess it.’

Smaug inclined his head. ‘And he believes I will be able to get it for him?’

‘You are as clever as they say.’

The smug smile came forth of its own accord, and Smaug relaxed in his seat. ‘There’s only one problem – no one knows where it is. No one has even seen it.’

‘That is not his concern.’

‘Why can’t your Master, this … Sauron … do it himself?’

The Mouth grinned again, cocking his head to the other side. ‘Limitations,’ it rasped.

‘Why does he want it?’

‘That is not your concern. My Master has a great deal of faith in you, Smaug, and that is not something he gives out very often. You should be honoured. Do whatever it takes, Smaug, and you will be rewarded greatly.’

Ah. This was what Smaug was interested in. ‘How so?’

‘My Master will give you Erebor.’

_Erebor!_ Smaug’s breath caught in his throat. He was tempted to say yes then and there, but he knew better than to get into deals without knowing all the terms. ‘H-how will he manage that?’

‘My Master has powers beyond anyone’s imagination. You must trust him. He will contact you soon.’

The hologram disconnected, leaving a ringing silence in its wake.

_Erebor._ The ultimate trophy – Smaug could almost feel it under his fingertips. Finding the stone of Erebor would be difficult, he knew, but the rewards would be worth it. More than worth it.

But how could he find it – that what was little more than a ghost? He highly doubted the dwarves would simply let him explore the Lonely Mountain. And who was this Sauron, who used such a disfigured instrument to conduct business?

What sort of deal was he being offered?

 

*             *             *

 

The cantina was dark and dingy. Dust covered every possible surface – even the glasses – but the patrons seemed not to care. Multiple languages spoken created a sort of white noise that the music played by the live band in the corner only just managed to beat.

All sorts of people could be found in cantinas such as these: pirates, bounty hunters, smugglers. So when the hooded and cloaked figure stepped into the establishment, no one gave them a second look. Everyone there knew the importance of remaining hidden. A few smiles were exchanged, however; with a disguise such as theirs, they tended to stand out more than blend in.

A low whistle caught the hooded figure’s attention, and they turned towards the booth, drawing the cloak tighter around them.

‘You’re the one who contacted me, I assume?’

‘Yes.’ The voice under the hood was deep and resonating.

The person in front of them crossed their arms. She was an Anzati – a species renowned for producing the deadliest assassins, due to their psychic abilities. She could see nothing under their hood, but it didn’t bother her; she had dealt with some shady characters in her time, and very little was able to faze her.

‘What do you know of Sauron?’ the hood continued.

The Anzati laughed. ‘Skipping the pleasantries, eh? Fine by me; I have places to be anyway. Sauron … now … it’s a name not many have heard and lived to pass on. What have you been up to, I wonder?’

It was a rhetorical question, but they responded anyway. ‘None of your business,’ they snapped. ‘Answer the question.’

The Anzati raised her hands in a defensive gesture. ‘Alright, alright, don’t blow your engine.’ She leaned forward, lowering her voice to a whisper. ‘Some say that he’s a …’ She glanced around for effect. ‘A Sith Lord.’

A squeak issued out from underneath the hood, and the Anzati grinned, resting back.

‘A Si-Sith Lord? I thought they were extinct!’

‘Are they ever truly?’ the Anzati replied cryptically, a wry grin crossing her face.

‘If it’s so mysterious, how come you know of it?’ the hood challenged.

She took a swig out of her drink before answering. ‘A couple of my … aah, associates, were out on a job that took them past the Outer Rim. We don’t know what they were doing – no one ever knows the details of someone else’s assignment – but they got into some trouble. Only two survived. One’s completely mad now, but the other likes to tell of a hooded figure – much like your good self – who had a red laser sword and can summon lightning out of thin air.’ She shrugged. ‘Make of that what you will, but it sounds like a Sith to me.’

Apparently the figure had heard enough. They stood up and made to leave, but the Anzati closed a hand around their arm before they could go.

‘Ah, ah, ah,’ she said chidingly. ‘Didn’t think I was going to let you leave without getting my payment, did you? information costs, just as anything else.’

She thought she saw yellow eyes glint at her from underneath the hood. A hand casually rested on the blaster at her hip; the message was clear. The figure growled and tossed a wad of credits on the table.

‘Have a nice day,’ the Anzati said faintly, examining her new prize.

But the figure was already gone.

 

*             *             *

 

Once Smaug was a fair distance away from the cantina – that is, completely beyond civilisation – only then did he lower his hood. His cruiser was parked on the outskirts; he had been careful to make sure that his presence there was not detected.

A Sith Lord! A small part of him was sceptical, but either way, he knew he had to tread carefully. If the tales were true, then dealing with a Sith Lord would – and could – most likely end with his death. They were temperamental and unpredictable, killing their associates easier than they hired them.

But they were powerful. And the fact that a Sith Lord had chosen Smaug, the simple businessman, was flattering in itself …

The crew of _The Dragon_ were milling about the front as Smaug approached.

‘Captain!’

The captain stood to attention. ‘Sir!’

‘Set course for Erebor.’

Smaug sensed he did not have a choice in the matter. But he would make the most of it.

‘Aye, sir.’ The captain faltered. ‘Erebor?’

‘We have a job to do.’

‘Aye, sir!’

Smaug moved into the ship as the crew scurried to their respective positions. Something red flashed out of the corner of his eye, and upon inspection, Smaug realised it was simply his reflection. Looking closer, he realised that his skin had erupted in scales.

Smaug snarled under his breath and lifted up his hood again.

_Erebor._


	3. Unwelcome Visitors

_The foe who smiles in the face of defeat is the most dangerous._

Thorin stood on the balcony of the mountain. It was a fine day, but there was a chill in the breeze that made him glad for the furs that lined his robe. In the distance, shapes moved on the lake; rowing was a favourite pastime for many on Erebor.

Footsteps echoed behind him, and Thorin turned to watch as the dwarf in the senatorial robes strode their way towards him. He couldn’t help but grin.

‘Good afternoon, Senator Kíli.’

Thorin’s nephew smiled proudly, and the two dwarves embraced.

‘Congratulations,’ Thorin added once they broke apart.

‘Ahh,’ Kíli replied dismissively, waving a hand. ‘If I’m half as good as what Balin was, I’ll be happy.’

‘You couldn’t ask for a finer advisor.’ Thorin nodded. Balin was the wisest dwarf he knew – possibly the wisest in the whole Mountain. Balin had represented Erebor in the Imperial Senate for most of his life, before he retired to take up a position on the Durin Mining Company Board.

‘Don’t be worried,’ Thorin continued, squeezing Kíli’s shoulder encouragingly. ‘You’ll do a fine job, I’m sure.’ He paused. ‘Your brother would be proud, you know.’

A distant look entered Kíli’s eyes, and he moved towards the balcony railing. He gripped the metal tightly, leaning forward. ‘A brother who I’ve never met.’

‘Kíli –’

‘A brother who doesn’t know I exist!’

‘You don’t know that,’ Thorin said gently. This was an old discussion between them, yet the well-used words never felt any less painful.

‘It is cruel.’ Kíli spoke through gritted teeth. ‘What the Jedi do. Take away a youngling before they even get to know their own family.’

‘It is necessary,’ Thorin replied, though he privately agreed. ‘A Jedi must not have any attachments. Besides,’ he added lightly, ‘now that you’re a Senator, you may run into him whilst at Coruscant now and again.’

Kíli was silent for a moment, but when he finally spoke, his voice was almost inaudible.

‘Would we even recognise each other? Know the other for what they are?’

‘I believe so. After all –’

The whine of a cruiser engine broke through Thorin’s words. Around the side of the Mountain, heading towards the landing platform at the base, soared one of the biggest star cruisers both Thorin and Kíli had ever seen.

Thorin frowned as the wind picked up in intensity, whipping his hair around his head. There was something about the ship that made him feel uneasy. Then the cruiser revealed its entire shape, and Thorin recognised the detailed design on the hull.

‘ _The Dragon_ ,’ Thorin growled. ‘Smaug.’

Kíli was breathless. ‘It is massive! It looks as though it could house a small army!’

As Kíli spoke, Thorin felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. ‘Kíli … find your grandfather. Take him to safety. Do not leave until I tell you.’

Kíli looked to his uncle sharply. ‘You don’t think he’s actually come to attack us, do you?’

‘I don’t know,’ Thorin admitted, but where Smaug was concerned, he didn’t want to take any chances. He crossed the balcony, leaning over to the other side where dwarves travelled below.

‘ _Dragon!_ Prepare yourselves!’

The dwarves only spared themselves a few seconds of hesitation before they scurried away to pick up vibroblades, blasters, and the special Ereborean weapon that resembled an axe and created an electric charge as it connected with its target.

‘Go – Kíli, go! I’ll meet with Smaug.’

‘What about you?’ Kíli shouted over the din of the dwarves below. ‘You’re the president! If Smaug gets you –’

‘He won’t,’ Thorin replied grimly. ‘I’ll shave my beard before I let that reptilian man get to me.’

Kíli’s eyes were wide with worry. ‘Be careful. Uncle.’

Thorin made no reply, but unsheathed his long vibroblade sword.  _Who allowed him permission to land?_

 

*             *             *

 

‘What a welcome. Do you always provide such a greeting party, or is it only for my benefit?’

Smaug stood alone outside his ship. The humanoid dragon was dressed in long dark robes that contrasted well with the red of his skin. He was smiling easily; his pointed teeth flashed in the warm glow of the setting sun.

In front of him stood Thorin, armed only with his sword and protected by nothing. Behind him, blocking the entrance to the Mountain, was a line of dwarves holding an assortment of weapons. Some were dressed in the uniform of the security force, others were simply in civilian clothes.

‘Relax, my short friend,’ Smaug continued, taking a step forward. ‘I have not come here to harm you.’

‘Nevertheless,’ Thorin said loudly, shaking his sword a bit, ‘I’d prefer if you kept your distance.’

Smaug raised both of his palms to Thorin in a placating gesture. ‘As you wish.’

‘Why are you here?’

‘I thought you would have been surprised I have not come before.’ Smaug straightened. ‘We are both members of two of the greatest mining companies in the galaxy. Can we not make a deal to further both of our prospects?’

‘Depends,’ Thorin growled. ‘What did you have in mind?’

‘The stone of Erebor.’

Mutters erupted behind Thorin, but Thorin himself remained passive. ‘And what you would give us in return?’

‘Thorin!’

Balin and Dwalin were rushing towards him. As Balin was skilled in the ways of diplomacy, Dwalin was just as proficient in the ways of war. As the long-time friends joined his side, Thorin reflected he would possibly need both before the day was out.

‘I hope you’re not listening to this!’ Dwalin said fiercely. The bald and tattooed dwarf, armed with two axes, made quite the intimidating sight, but Smaug barely batted an eyelid.

‘In return?’ Smaug said. ‘I will give you a thousand mining droids per rotation for the duration of our deal, a decent portion of my security force – to permanently stay here – to help you deal with pirates and the like, and twenty percent of all profits made on Sundari and Berea. A fair price, no?’

‘A fair price indeed,’ Balin said slowly. ‘But you forget – we do not use mining droids.’

‘Ah. Of course. Very well. No mining droids, and instead thirty percent on profits. Does that sound agreeable?’

‘What sounds agreeable is me swinging this axe in your face!’ Dwalin spat.

Smaug raised an eyebrow. ‘Are all of your race so hot-headed?’

Thorin ignored the question. He thought for a moment – then sheathed his sword.

Smaug smiled, apparently thinking he had a deal, but Thorin shook his head.

‘We do not know where it is.’

It was a lie, of course – Thorin alone knew where it was. But he was not about to say that to Smaug.

‘That is of little importance,’ Smaug replied. He waved a hand. ‘I shall help you search –’

He broke off as Thorin raised a finger.

‘But we would not give it to you even if we did. We have no deal.’

Dwalin roared in agreement.

Smaug’s skin seemed to redden further, and a dangerous glint lit up his yellow eyes. ‘Are you sure about that?’ he hissed.

Thorin glared at Smaug. ‘Yes,’ he said slowly and firmly.

‘Oh dear,’ Balin muttered.

Thorin expected Smaug to get enraged – to shout and storm back into his ship. What he didn’t expect, however, was for Smaug to smile.

The smile made him appear far more dangerous than anything else could have.

‘Very well.’ Smaug’s face set – he seemed to have come to a decision – and he turned away from the dwarves. One of his arms lifted.

‘It seems as though I will simple have to search the Mountain myself,’ he said quietly, so quietly that Thorin wasn’t sure it was what he actually heard.

The next word, however, was all too clear.

‘Attack.’ 


	4. Stirrings

_When in doubt, trust the Force._

Fíli’s eyes were covered, but that did not mean he could not see. The Force gave him sight, guiding his actions, and he trusted it completely. He twirled through the air, ducking as he felt his opponents come nearer, as he heard the hum of their lightsabers fly over his head.

One hand reached out, and he called on the Force. He released it, and he was satisfied when he heard a grunt. He spent no time to gloat, however – a Jedi did not gloat – and dodged a neatly aimed kick. His hands gripped the ankle and twisted; another yell and the deactivation of a lightsaber told him that he had successfully knocked down his opponent.

The Jedi Knight straightened and took off his blindfolds, slightly damp with sweat. He bowed to his opponents, then strode outside of the training rooms.

Master Gandalf was waiting for him in the hallway. The bearded Jedi was one of the greatest in the Jedi Order, holding one of the primary seats in the Jedi Council. No one knew exactly how old he was – the common consensus was that not even Gandalf himself knew – but he was wise beyond measure and respected by all.

‘Master,’ Fíli murmured, bowing once more.

‘Good to see you’re keeping up with your training,’ Gandalf replied. The Jedi Master was leaning on a large staff, one that Fíli suspected he didn’t even need. He rather liked it though – it added to the Master’s eccentricities, something which made Gandalf a favourite of Fíli’s. ‘You did well in there.’

‘Thank you, Master.’ 

‘Hmm. May I join you?’

Fíli said nothing, but gestured. He felt a little funny – he knew they must make a ridiculous sight walking together, with Fíli so short and Gandalf so tall. Oddly enough, Fíli never noticed it when they were standing face-to-face; Gandalf had the strange ability to somehow be able to be directly at someone’s eye-line, no matter how short or tall a person was.

The hallways of the Jedi Temple were silent. The thick carpets muffled their footsteps, and the Jedi around them – either alone or in pairs – made no noise. Fíli did not push the elder Jedi; he knew Gandalf would speak when he was ready.

Gandalf led Fíli to a balcony. The sun was setting over Coruscant, and the red-yellow glare bounced off the numerous metallic surfaces covering the city’s surface.

‘The Durin Mining Board is leaving Ered Luin.’

Fíli’s hands found the railing, and he gripped it. ‘Really?’

Gandalf glanced at the young Knight out of the corner of his eyes. It had been more than a few rotations since Smaug had invaded the Lonely Mountain, and what was left of the population – including all of the Durin Mining Board, thankfully, along with King Thrain and Senator Kíli – had fled to their sister planet, Ered Luin.

‘Indeed. They intend to plead their case to the Senate.’

Fíli snorted softly. The Imperial Senate had been looking at the case of Erebor, to be sure, but had they done anything? Of course not. A sarlacc would eat and digest their victim in the time it took for the Senate to come to a decision.

Gandalf chuckled. ‘I feel much the same. Nevertheless, they must try.’

‘Why are you telling me this, Master?’

‘When they arrive on Coruscant, I wish for you to be in charge of their security. I feel … they may be in danger. Whatever quarrel they have with the Smaug Corporation may lead to more danger than we can foresee. The dark side of the Force surrounds the Smaug Corporation – though my vision is not that clouded: I can tell it is not the source.’

Fíli bowed his head, accepting Gandalf’s request. ‘You believe Smaug is being used?’

Gandalf was silent for a while, watching as the speeders raced around the city-planet in perfect lines. ‘There is a growing shadow,’ he eventually said, his voice a low rumble. ‘The discovery of this stone and Smaug’s invasion cannot be mere coincidences. If the Durin Mining Company do indeed hold the stone, then they could be targets from the moment they land on Coruscant. Even if they are suspected of holding the stone …’

‘I will do my best.’ Fíli began to say more, but then hesitated.

‘Speak,’ Gandalf said, smiling beneath his beard as though he already knew what was on the Ereborean dwarf’s mind.

‘They are my kin,’ Fíli said. ‘My blood relations – how can I call them family? I have no memory of them. And yet … how can you trust that my judgement will not become clouded?’

Gandalf put a soft hand on the Jedi’s shoulder. ‘I trust you will know what to do when the time comes.’

As the Jedi Master left Fíli to his troubled thoughts, his worries of potential divided loyalties, Gandalf couldn’t help but feel as though he was almost counting on Fíli’s clouded judgement.

* * *

‘The Senate has warned us not to act!’

The man was leaning forward in his seat, light shoulder-length hair framing his noble face. Master Boromir looked evenly at the graceful Master Galadriel, who seemed to be a little bit more than exasperated with the circular discussion.

‘Not without the explicit approval of the Senate,’ Master Saruman agreed.

Master Radagast sighed at his fellow Council members. ‘What are we, tools of the Empire?’

‘We are in a precarious position,’ Gandalf admitted. ‘But I’m afraid Boromir and Saruman are right, my friend. We cannot do anything. Not yet.’

Radagast grinned at Gandalf. The numerous quests and missions together that had taken them all over the galaxy had given both Jedi a good idea of how the other worked. ‘You have a plan, then?’

Gandalf smiled wryly. ‘Perhaps.’

Galadriel’s eyes were on the grey-haired Jedi. Galadriel was able to look as though she knew every secret of a person’s soul – startling to those who were unaccustomed to it. ‘We cannot risk inciting a civil war,’ she agreed. ‘We all know Smaug has no right to the Mountain – yet he has powerful friends.’

Saruman slumped in his seat, an arm propped up on the rest so he could massage his forehead. ‘I hope you’re not talking about –’

‘I am,’ Gandalf said firmly. ‘The dark side of the Force surrounds both Smaug – and Mordor. I am certain of it.’

Saruman only just managed to restrain a groan.

‘Whatever Smaug is up to – and we have a very good idea it has something to do with the magical stone – it is connected to Mordor,’ Gandalf persisted doggedly. ‘The planet has been a hive of activity for the past few years, yet strangely enough there have been no trace of any concrete records. Whatever is happening on Mordor, they want no one to know about it.’

Saruman’s sigh was almost over-dramatic.

‘But what do you plan to do about it?’ Boromir frowned. ‘You can’t just simply fly into Mordor.’

Gandalf raised his eyebrows innocently. Galadriel smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> couldn't resist ;)


End file.
